Attack Dog
by FlyLittleMoth
Summary: Coda to 11x02 leading to 11x03 'The Bad Seed', Castiel has returned to the bunker cursed by Rowena. Sam and Dean stumble across him on the floor of the Bunker, and come to realise that something is violently wrong with the angel.


Attack Dog

 **Coda to the end of 11x02 and the beginning of 11x03 where Cas returns to the bunker cursed by Rowena.**

They'd found Cas bloodied and wounded on the bunker floor. The sclerae of his eyes were streaked red, while crimson trails leaked down his face like bloody tears, reminiscent of his ordeal under Naomi's drill, and the skin beneath his eyes was a sickening purple colour. The angel was so pale that it stood out starkly against the blood on his face, while his messy black hair clung to the clammy skin of his forehead.

His hands had been bound in front of him with Enochian sigiled cuffs - most likely the work of other angels - but why had he been shackled? Castiel's clothing was showered in red, shirt slashed and stained bloody, while his coat was splashed with mud and blood. His chest looked like it had been skewered and gashed several times, wounds littering the flesh behind the tattered shirt, and wrists bleeding, abraded and raw beneath the handcuffs. He looked like hell, and both Winchesters knew well enough what that looked like. He'd been tortured and abused in his separation from them, but still somehow managed to escape and find his way to the bunker in his condition.

He seemed to be in some kind of haze, unfocussed and in pain, eyes barely open and listlessly gazing towards Sam and Dean as they stood frozen and staring at him. Cas was panting in pained gasps, a staccato rhythm that was painful for even the boys to behold. The worst of it was that Cas barely seemed to recognize the boys aside from a weak plea for help, before a violent seizure overtook him and he began writhing on the ground in agony.

The Winchester brothers stood in stunned shock for several seconds before panic struck and they bolted from their spots towards the convulsing angel.

"Quick, hold his head!" Sam called, rushing to his friend's side and dropping to his knees. He gripped the jacket over Castiel's slim shoulders to prevent him moving along the tiled floor while Dean mutely followed his instruction, firmly but gently clasping the sides of Cas' head.

The seizure lasted all of about a minute, before the angel stilled and lay silently. Sam reached his neck and felt for his pulse, finding it faster than it should have been. He noted that Castiel's body radiated with a heat that was way too high to be healthy - as though he had been standing in the summer sun for hours. An angel's bodyheat never exceeded the natural limits of humanity, the only exception being when using specific pyrokinetic abilities did it ever change. With the angel cuffs in place and his powers effectively locked down, the absurdly high level of warmth coming from Castiel was alarming.

Dean's hands trembled as they released his best friend's head. Images of the last time he'd touched the angel flashed before him and he couldn't help but see the blood crusting his knuckles, the crimson trails streaking across the angel's face. He shuddered as he recalled how satisfied he'd felt striking Castiel repeatedly in the face, feeling the jarring impacts of his fists against Cas' head - of bone striking bone and cartilage, shattering his nose and eyesockets - before warning him to stay away.

He'd been so _angry_ at everything, with the loss of Charlie and the corruption of the Mark of Cain intensifying the pain and the rage, Dean was a time bomb waiting to take out anything that got in his way. After killing the remaining Styne family members who were rifling through the bunker's books looking for the Book of the Damned, he lashed out at the nearest target, which at the time was Castiel. Cas, who was trying to stop him from doing something he would regret. Cas, who ended up taking all of Dean's rage with a beating that very nearly killed him.

And not once did he lift a hand defensively.

Castiel stood and weathered the Mark's bloodlust, until Dean left him in a bloody heap in almost the same spot he was in now. Dean had come so close to ending him that day, with the angel blade gripped tightly in his hand and hovering with intent over Cas' torso. It had been a split second thought to angle the thrust of the blade away from Castiel's heart, slamming it into the book beside his head instead and walking away before he did something else. A split second moment of indecision saved his best friend's life.

Shame for his behaviour while under the influence of the Mark of Cain festered in his chest like a disease. Dean felt so guilty about how he had treated his supposed best friend and it burned like a hot knife in his sternum to see him like this again so soon.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" He asked his brother, panicked eyes flitting between the two before him. Sam huffed, grasping the angel's forehead to steady him and gently peeling back an eyelid. The metaphorical knife in Dean's chest twisted as he looked closer at Cas' eye, still coloured so _wrong,_ while the angel's breaths came out harsh and uneven.

"I've seen this before," Sam muttered, gritting his teeth and releasing Castiel completely and leaning back. "He said 'what he had, we can't help him with', right?"

"Y-yeah, that's right," Dean said, a shiver running up his spine. "On the phone. He said- he said it may be some time before we see him again. Just after he asked if the Mark was gone. What do you think he meant by that?" Mulling over his brother's words, the answer hit him so hard that Sam's jaw ticked and he breathed a heavy sigh through his nose.

"This is a witch's curse." He grunted, huffing angrily and shaking his head. Dean's eyes shot to him momentarily, before returning to look over the unconscious angel.

"Which one?!"

"I don't know, Attack Dog?"

"Like the one Rowena cast on that hooker? The one that went crazy and wailed on you?" Dean asked, unmoving from his spot near Cas' head. His fingers curled into the denim of his jeans - itching, Sam noticed, to do something, _anything_ , to fix this. To find out who hurt their friend and end them.

"Yeah, exactly like that one. But that hooker was rabid, attacked everything around her and then burnt out. Died after a few minutes. I think the spell shredded her insides." He considered Castiel's unconscious form briefly, eyes catching on the glinting sigiled handcuffs wrapped tightly around his damaged and blood-crusted wrists.

"I don't think the same will happen to Cas, on account of his angel wiring. But I don't know how it's going to affect him." Sam chewed his lip for a moment in contemplation. "I don't think it'll kill him though. Witchcraft isn't strong enough to kill angels."

"Oh, thank god." He heard Dean's murmured words and watched him sag in relief. "Just means we either find the witch and make her reverse it, or kill her and find another who can."

Dean tugged out a bandanna from his back pocket and began to wipe the blood from his friend's cheeks with a gentleness in his shaking hands that Sam hadn't seen in years. It was strange to see his older brother treat _anything_ so tenderly, particularly in front of Sam, as throughout their lives Dean had always been the impetuous and angry one. The only person he ever treated so kindly was Sam himself, and only because he was forced to raise his brother in the absence of their father. He supposed it made sense, being that Castiel was the recipient of such tenderness after what had happened between them. Dean felt ashamed for hurting his best friend and was hoping to make amends for it.

It wasn't until Castiel's fingers twitched abruptly that the boys leaned back to put a bit of distance between them and the angel. They still didn't know what to expect, the nature of the spell putting them on edge. A quiet moan escaped Castiel's lips as his brows drew together and his eyelids fluttered, lashes dark against the mottled and bruised skin beneath his eyes. The brothers exchanged a look.

"Cas? Hey, you okay?" Sam asked cautiously, wary of any movement. The curse was unpredictable, that much was true, but they couldn't just stand back if Cas was hurting. And judging by his injuries, and the fact his powers were suppressed, he would be hurting quite a lot.

The angel twitched again before his eyes blinked open slowly, still marked red. They sluggishly roved over the brothers before Castiel lashed out with an inhuman growl, striking Sam in the chest with a foot and sending him skidding across the room. Sam landed against a bookshelf, causing several old tomes to topple out to the ground around him.

Dean got to his feet immediately and backed up, putting as much space between himself and Castiel as possible. He watched the angel struggle to climb to his hands and knees, the handcuff's tinkling chain echoing through the room as he pushed himself upwards into a lopsided kneel. Those maddened red eyes swept the room before Castiel's face twisted into a pained grimace, curling into himself and gripping his head in agony momentarily. He muttered to himself a rambling disjointed nonsense that Dean couldn't understand or even begin to piece together, seemingly trying to fight the impulse to follow up and attack a downed Sam. Dean heard Crowley's name muttered once or twice, but the rest seemed like witch language and other random gibberish.

This wasn't Cas. He didn't recognise Sam or acknowlege their presence before sending him flying, which was a giant flaming warning sign.

The curse had twisted his mind - he couldn't tell who was who, friend or foe.

It seemed his mind had become a fractured and feverish thing, unable to comprehend his surroundings, but cohesive enough that it realised killing anything in his general vicinity was the only option for survival. He was like an actual rabid dog, pained and afraid, and the torture he'd endured however long ago certainly would not have helped his current situation.

Dean shifted in his spot, wanting to do _something,_ to calm Castiel down, to pull him back to himself, but unable to figure out what. The sound of his boots squeaking on the floor attracted Cas' attention, as he turned his head towards the sound. It was as if his eyes struggled to focus on the blurry shape before him, but when they did, there was absolutely no recognition on his face. Castiel's pained expression morphed into a feral rage before he scrambled to his feet and charged towards the elder Winchester, cuffed hands rising to strike.

"Cas!" Dean cried, hands up placatingly in front of him. "Stop! It's me!"

Castiel seemed to completely ignore his voice, continuing in his surge forward with an incredibly dangerous look in his eyes. Dean sidestepped him, but had to duck when Cas' bound arms swung back towards his head. He had to leap backwards when Castiel tried to claw at his face.

As he continued to evade frenzied attacks from the rabid angel, he watched as Sam climbed to his feet out of the corner of his eye. Castiel, in his madness, had grabbed the nearest thing he could consider a weapon, which happened to be a large pipe wrench, and gripped it tightly as he swung it towards Dean, who ducked beneath it to dodge. Dean felt the displaced air rush through his short hair and the vibration of the loud _whoosh_ as the wrench travelled over his head, missing by mere centimetres. Dean threw a panicked look at his brother.

"A little help, Sam?!"

Sam snapped into action despite the pain in his back and began digging through a nearby weapons box while his brother was keeping the angel occupied. With any luck, the weapon he was searching for would not cause any serious harm to Cas, and would hopefully disable him long enough to deal with the curse that threatened all three of them. But with the curse shredding his mind, Castiel was lashing out erratically, swinging the wrench with both bound arms, growling lowly when it continued to miss its intended target.

Dean lept backwards to put some space between the angel and himself, cursing when his back came into contact with a support beam. He glanced briefly to his left and spotted Sam rifling through the weapons, before focussing back on Castiel. He stood against the pole for a moment, waiting for the angel's approach, then ducked as Cas slammed his weapon where Dean's head used to be, shattering off chunks of stone and sparks which flew towards Sam.

The taller man jerked downwards, shielding his face when the angel's wrench struck the cement support beam and almost broke the pillar in half. Shit, for a smaller built guy, the angel was stronger than he looked, even with the cuffs on. Perhaps it was a side effect of the curse? Castiel's head turned towards Sam as he straightened, eyeing him with murderous intent and shifting his grip on his weapon as he corrected his stance.

Dean saw the angel's eyes track his brother's movements, and in a fit of desperation, called out and waved his arms, dragging the cursed celestial's attention back onto himself like he was a wild animal.

"Castiel! Cas! Come on, man! I'm over here!" Thankfully, Cas' head immediately turned away from Sam and followed the louder noise. He raised the wrench, now crooked from its collision with the stone pillar, and advanced on the elder Winchester once more.

Dean dodged around the swung wrench again and quickly backed up to the other side of the library to draw the angel away from Sam. His eyes widened abruptly as in a swift movement, the utility tool was suddenly sailing across the room towards him, burying itself halfway up its bent handle into the concrete wall beside his head. Momentarily distracted, Dean did not expect Cas to immediately be upon him in the next second, knocking him to the ground with a feral cry and climbing atop him, one knee either side of his waist.

A fist struck his cheekbone and then a second slammed against his jaw, splitting his lip and sending a wash of blood through his mouth, before burning hot palms pressed against his throat and fingers curled against the flesh of his neck. Dean's breaths came laboured and difficult as he searched his friend's face for any sign of recognition, one hand to grip the wrist of one on his throat, the other tangled in Castiel's collar, trying to dislodge him.

The angel looked at him as though he was his worst enemy, with grit teeth hidden behind lips pressed taut and brow furrowed, those stained eyes burning into him. Castiel began to push more of his body weight onto his hands locked around Dean's throat, as he couldn't use his supernatural angel strength on account of the handcuffs, while Dean began to thrash beneath him. Dean may have been physically stronger than Castiel's vessel, Jimmy Novak, but that didn't mean that he wanted to hurt Cas. Not again.

"Ca-as... _please_..." He choked out, as the pressure built on his windpipe to the point of complete cut-off. His lungs began to burn quite quickly as he bucked and struggled, and the wave of dizziness after having been struck in the face twice intensified with the lack of air and bloodflow.

When Sam's fingers finally curled around the handle of what he was looking for, he looked up to see Castiel astride his brother, strangling him.

"Shit! Dean!"

He lifted the pistol-like weapon, rushing as close as he could and pulled the trigger. With a sharp click, two barbed electrodes attached to long coils of wire shot out and attached themselves to Cas' back, sending an immense and immediate amount of electricity through the angel, forcing him to release his brother.

Dean sucked in a pained lungful of air and hacked out an agonized cough as Cas' hands around his neck slackened abruptly, watching as crimson streaked eyes widened, head jerking upwards and lips parted as the angel released a choked gasp. His body arced backwards and he slid off of Dean, falling onto his side to Dean's right, trembling on the floor with a near lethal amount of electricity for humans coursing through his body.

For several tense moments, the room was silent but for the clicking of the electricity in the stun-gun echoing off the walls, as well as Cas' quiet grunts of pain and Dean's rasping inhales. Eventually, Castiel stilled once more, the only movement from him being the twitching of his muscles from the shocks causing them to flex involuntarily. Sam kept the current flowing until Dean was on his feet beside him, breathing harshly with a hand gingerly pressed against his bruising throat.

"The hell took you so long?" Dean croaked, swallowing painfully. The younger man shrugged, however, and released the trigger on the weapon, ceasing the flow of electricity and causing Castiel to settle limply on the ground.

"Sorry," He uttered, not quite sincerely, lifting the weapon in his hand to show his brother. "Had to find the modified stun-gun. It's the only thing we had that would work and wouldn't kill him or banish him. Also quicker than setting out a holy oil circle." He glanced up at Dean's face, which was already starting to darken with marks, and Sam had to wonder just how hard the angel had hit him. The shorter man looked down on his friend, who lay unmoving on the concrete yet again.

"I'm so glad you did." Dean exhaled wearily, reaching out and patting his brother on the shoulder. "Nice work, Sammy. Way to think on your feet."

"Think he's okay?" Sam asked, gesturing down at Castiel, swapping the taser between his hands. He was tempted to remove the electrodes now that Cas was unconscious again, but he didn't want to risk waking him. That being said, how long would he remain that way? And when he woke, would he be lucid or remain a rabid mess?

A quiet, pained moan answered his asked and one of his unasked questions as Castiel shifted on the floor. The brothers backed up and gave him as much room as they could allow, reluctant to continue the violence, Sam's arm raised again with finger tensed and ready to pull the trigger. Castiel folded into himself slightly, brow furrowing and hands curling into loose fists. His face scrunched up and he groaned, body remaining lax.

"What... what's going on...?" Came the exhausted murmur, which drew Dean immediately closer to his friend. He darted forward to Cas' side and Sam relaxed his hand on the taser.

"Cas?! Cas, you okay?" He dropped heavily to his knees beside Castiel and ducked his head to try and catch the angel's slowly opening eyes, hand gently clasping Cas' shoulder. "Hey!"

"Dean?" Cas' eyes were still marked that horrendous red, but it seemed he had returned to himself for now. Dean's hand slid from Cas' shoulder to the side of his neck in a gentle clasp, thumb grazing the angel's cheek.

"Hey, buddy. Welcome back." Dean's voice was gentler than Sam had ever heard it and he was smiling softly, and suddenly Sam felt like he was intruding on something intimate. Something private. It was true that Dean was closer with Castiel than Sam was, but... Was this how they were with each other while Sam was absent? Before the Mark took over?

Surely not. Dean wouldn't get that close with anybody, wouldn't risk the dynamic the three had, and Castiel was his best friend. Perhaps it was an attempt to assuage the guilt Dean was feeling, but Sam couldn't be sure.

"What happened?" Cas voice was quiet, tired and strained as his unnatural eyes searched Dean's face. "You're hurt..." Dean's paused a moment, contemplating his next words briefly, before he slid his other hand under Cas' shoulders and began to lift him into a sitting position for an awkwardly angled hug. The angel groaned at the movement, lifting up a weak hand to Dean's forearm - the one with the hand still placed on his neck. Sam shifted on his feet and glanced away, uncomfortable.

"Don't you worry about that, Cas. I'm fine." Dean had seemingly forgotten all about his brother's presence as he let Castiel lean heavily against his chest, Cas' forehead resting on his shoulder as the angel tiredly panted. "Are you okay, man? You scared the hell out of us. Right, Sam?"

Sam's attention was sucked straight back towards his brother and the angel at the mention of his name, watching as Dean finally looked up at him, relief painted clearly all over his face. Dean waved him over, tugging on the cords still attached to Cas' back. Sam steadily strode his way over to the two, kneeling down in front of his brother and reached behind Castiel, carefully removing the electrodes adhered to Cas' back and placing his hand between the angel's shoulderblades.

"Sam?" The deep voice of the angel was muffled by Dean's dark coat, his forehead still pressed into Dean's shoulder. Dean released his grip and let him lean back to look at the younger Winchester, red eyes blinking wearily.

"Are you alright?"

Sam's lips pulled upward in a strained smile. So like Castiel to worry about the Winchesters' wellbeing above his own. To be truthful, Sam's back was very sore and most likely bruised from his collision with the bookshelf and his head was killing him, but it was better to leave that for later.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Cas. I should be asking you that though. You look like crap." Dean huffed an amused breath and Cas smiled that broken little one-sided smile that made him look a little like himself again.

"Thanks." His eyes closed briefly and shifted with a pained grunt, before he opened them and looked down at his handcuffs.

"What happened?" He asked again, brow furrowed. Sam and Dean exchanged a quick glance at one another.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Sam offered. "We found you here covered in blood and then you had some kind of a seizure." He didn't want to say that Cas had attacked them, he didn't need more weight on his conscience. _Just let Cas take the lead. Let him tell us what he remembers._ He conveyed that in a look to his brother, who seemed to get the message.

"Cas, can you fill us in on what happened with you since the Mark was removed?" Dean said, voice low and placating.

"I remember some of it clearly." Castiel admitted, morosely. "The rest of it is... murky, and some of it blank. I remember I was with Crowley and Rowena. I watched Rowena work the spell to remove the Mark, and it seemed successful. She made to escape, and she cast a different spell on me before I could stop her. The incantation forced me to attack Crowley, and I barely remember it, but I know I was supposed to kill him. I stabbed him with my angel blade, but... I don't think he's really dead. I-I couldn't stop myself. I blacked out for a bit after that." His bloody eyes roamed the ceiling next.

"I ran for a while. I was shot at a few times, I think. In one of my moments of clarity, I remember calling you to ask about the Mark, then..." He swallowed, sadness in his voice. "Then I was captured by angels. My brothers Efram and Jonah, and... they tortured me. Hannah had sent them to do it... sh-she wanted information on you. I gave them nothing... But... they ended up stabbing her in the back and killed her. So I... vaguely remember fighting them both. But I know that I killed them... I had to. I just... I couldn't stop it." Shocked exhales escaped the brothers, saddened looks aimed towards the angel between them.

"Cas... I'm so sorry..." Sam's whisper reached his ears and Cas closed his eyes in grief as Dean's hand tightened on his shoulder.

"I remember searching for a safe place to hide. After that... nothing." He reopened his eyes and looked between Sam and Dean. "Next thing I know I'm... laying here." Dean shared another glance with his brother, shifting in his kneeled position.

"In that case, we need to find that witch quickly and lift this spell off you." He declared with a finality that left no room for doubt. "Can you stand?" He shifted again and grasped Cas' elbow.

"I think so."

Without any prompting, Sam did the same and helped to raise Cas to his feet, where he swayed unsteadily for a second, before taking a a few steps forward. He paused for a moment, turning back to face them with a serious look on his face. A look that told the both of them that they weren't going to like what he says next.

"Restrain me."

"What?" The boys squawked in unison, confusion etched into their faces. When neither made a move in several seconds, Castiel shifted in his place, tilting his head down and exhaled shakily.

"Restrain me, please." He repeated, his voice pleading. His eyes flicked up at Sam, glancing at Dean, but focussing his bloody stare on the younger Winchester. "When I lose control again, and you know I will, someone is going to get hurt. These cuffs aren't going to be enough. You need to lock me away. Somewhere I can't get out. Either that or kill me."

"What the hell!" Dean's indignant outburst echoed lightly off the walls. "You can't ask us to do that, Cas! We are not going to kill you!" The angel fixed him with a stubborn stare, which, even with sickly skin and reddened eyes, seemed to convey his status as Angel-of-the-Lord more prominantly.

"Then lock me away. And I'm not asking you." He murmured, voice gravelly and dark. "I'm _telling_ you, you have to do this."

" _Why?!"_

"Because I _cannot_ control myself. I don't know when another episode will hit," He admitted, almost shamefully. "I'm under the effects of a very violent and malicious curse. I can feel it digging further and further into my mind. When I lose it again... I can't risk it. It's safer for everyone if I am contained." Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, green eyes flicking over his friend's pale face, before turning to his brother.

"Sam, what's your input on this?" He uttered through gritted teeth. "Restraining you, Cas? Are you serious?"

"I'm incredibly serious. And you and I both know I'm right. You don't have to tell me that the bruises on your face are there because of me. I don't even remember doing it, Dean, but I _know_ it was me. You need to restrain me immediately, because who knows what else I'll do?"

Sam breathed out slowly, rationalising, as his brother and the angel bickered. Cas was right. He needed to be locked down until they found Rowena and the curse was lifted. The only room they had for any type of lockdown was the dungeon. It had the interrogation chair, chains could be affixed to the walls and floor and it had thick walls to prevent a breakout.

Only problem was Dean wouldn't let that happen. He felt guilty enough for beating the ever-loving crap out of Cas, so locking him away so soon after Cas had organised the Mark to be removed... it seemed like too heavy a weight for his conscience to bear.

He shot a contemplative glance at his brother, who gripped Cas' bicep with a distressed expression painted across his face. "Cas..." Dean whispered with a shake of his head. "Come on, man... don't-" Sam clasped a hand on Dean's shoulder and tugged him away.

"One sec, Cas. I need a word with Dean. Just... don't move, okay?"

"...okay," the angel whispered in return, shutting his eyes and standing stock still.

Dean's stricken and worried face pulled heartstrings Sam didn't realise he had, as the elder Winchester kept glancing back at the angel, who gusted out a weary sigh. That worry quickly morphed into a caustic anger, which was nowhere near that of the Mark's rage, but it came pretty close. Dean's vitriolic gaze bore directly into Sam's.

"We cannot just lock him up and throw away the key!" Dean hissed in Sam's face, gesturing angrily behind him. The taller man sighed.

"I know."

"Then why are we even considering this?!"

"Dean, he's right," Sam murmured back, feeling the tension of his older brother's shoulder beneath his hand.

"How?!" Sam's gaze briefly skimmed the floor, before returning to his brother's and trying to convey as much sympathy as he possibly could.

"He's dangerous like this." He glanced back at Cas. "He can't control it, and who knows when it'll strike again. We don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice." Dean bit back, confidence waning.

"Not in this. Dean, he attacked us, remember? _Us."_ Sam ducked his head to his brother's level. "I know you feel guilty or whatever about what happened before we got the Mark removed, but we need to do this for our safety _and_ his." Sam watched his brother's anger ebb, eyes trained on the angel who hadn't moved a single micrometre since they left. "We'll sort through our crap after this is over and done with."

"Where are we gonna put him, then?" Dean questioned morosely as Sam shrugged.

"I thought the dungeon was a pretty good idea. Walls are thick, door is several inches of iron, we can bolt some eye-loops to the floor and loop a chain through. With the angel cuffs on, Cas shouldn't be able to use his angel mojo, so we hook them on to another chain so he can't get to the door. Just in case." Dean's features hardened, determination instead passing over his face.

"Counter-offer," he firmly stated, holding up a finger in objection. "We gotta keep an eye on him, and I don't wanna leave him in the dungeon alone. We hook a chain up in the library while we look for Rowena and figure out what this Darkness thing is. He might hurt himself if we don't make sure he's okay. If he spazzes out again, we got the taser, that'll take him down again. Hopefully." And there was real hope in Dean's eyes. Sam couldn't help but relent under his brother's gaze, and with a sympathetic tug of his lips into a weak smile, Sam jerked his chin up in a nod.

"Okay, fine."

"Right. I'm gonna go tell him."

Dean left him there and walked back over to Cas, gently grasping his arm, speaking quietly and leaning close to the angel, likely informing Castiel of their plans. And observing them together once more made Sam feel like an outsider watching something he shouldn't be.

So he left the two alone and headed to the library to set up the room for Cas' stay.

 **I've had this one sitting around for months. Based around one of my favourite episodes where Dean gets his ass handed to him by a cursed Cas. I thought a more violent and vivid experience would be good for that small time-skip.**


End file.
